Red cherry blossom branch tattoo with dark stems and leaves running across the side of a torso over the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cherry blossom branch across the ribs

Botanical · Ribs · Colour · Photo

A branch of red cherry blossoms with dark brown stems and leaves curves diagonally across the side of the torso, from the waist towards the chest. The flowers are filled with shades of red and pink, with fine shading on the petals and darker tones along the branches. The person lies on a light surface, and the tattoo fills most of the frame with scattered falling petals around it.

Botanical Ribs Cherry blossom Branch Flower Petal Leaves Stem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Ada Pell had come to the Palais in Margate every Saturday since the war ended, and every Saturday she checked the clock above the bandstand before she checked the door. Tonight it said ten to nine and the door stayed shut. Her friend Lena had promised a partner from the signal works in Ramsgate, a quiet man in a navy cap who could not dance, and she had talked of nothing else all week.

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The band struck up a quickstep. Ada watched the couples turn beneath the mirrored globe, its light breaking into coins that skated over the boards. Someone had pinned a spray of pink paper blossom to the pillar by the cloakroom, left over from the spring dance, and the paper had gone soft and curled at the edges. Lena came in late with her cheeks burning and a petal caught in the wool of her collar. She had walked the sea wall, she said, where the wind was stripping the blossom from the trees along the promenade and throwing it at everyone who passed.

The man arrived at half past nine, hat in both hands, and asked Lena for the next dance in a voice so careful that Ada had to look away. They went out onto the floor badly and then, after a few bars, not badly at all. Ada sat with her gloves folded in her lap and her back to the pillar.

When the last waltz ended, she went to fetch her coat and found the petal had fallen from Lena's collar onto the chair. She picked it up, pale pink with a darker vein running through it, and pressed it inside her hymn book at the page she had marked for her own wedding, thirty years before, and had never once needed to open again.